He regarded her curiously, then shook his head. He tried speaking again, slower this time. “Kore wa watashi no monodesu.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are saying,” Sky said in a gentle voice. “Do you understand me at all?”

The man held up a finger and closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face, as if he were trying to recall something. When he opened his eyes, he tapped the box and said very slowly, “This . . . mine. Understand?”

This time Sky nodded, and she spoke slowly too. “This is your toolbox?”

The man smiled, revealing a mouth void of teeth. “Mine.” He pointed to the stern of the ship that Alex and Ms. Octavia had explored. “My ship.”

“Ah,” Alex said. “So you are stranded here?”

“Hai. Stranded.” He leaned in and, hesitating now and then, said, “I speak your language. Long time ago. I am old . . . must think for the words.” He tapped the side of his head. “But it comes back. You’ll see.”

Alex nodded. “I can understand you very well, sir. Thank you.”

By this time, the rest of the Artiméans had gathered, with Florence hanging back, keeping an eye on the island but also realizing that her looming presence might be a little intimidating. Still the man noticed her—she was impossible to miss. He pointed excitedly at her, looking at Sky, and asked, “Robot?”

Sky stared. “Um . . . what?”

“That is a robot?” the man asked, trying very carefully to sound out his words.

Sky shook her head and looked around. She didn’t know the word.

Lani pushed forward. “Wait. Did you say ‘robot’?”

When the man nodded, Lani covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. “No. Not a robot. Statue.”

Alex and Sky exchanged puzzled glances.

The man frowned. “Statue is alive.” He peered more closely at Lani, then looked at the ship. He pointed at it. “You are pirates?” He seemed extremely puzzled.

“No,” Lani said. “Not pirates. We just use the ship. Florence is a living statue. It’s . . . it’s magic, you see. . . .” Lani trailed off. Magic was hard to explain, and she didn’t know if the man understood.

The man’s face perked up. “Oh, magic!” He nodded. “Magic. So. This is why ship . . . arrives . . . on the land, like this. It is for you to fix.” He pointed to the pirate ship, clearly happy to finally make sense of how the damaged ship managed to be sitting entirely on land.

“Yes,” Lani said, tickled. “How do you know about magic? Can you do magic?”

“Me magic?” the ancient little man said, pointing to his wrinkled old chest. A gust of wind took his hat high into the air, and he laughed, unbothered by it. “No. I know magic from another visitor. Visitor I do not see in a long time. He comes through the magic tube. You know him? His name is Marcus Today.”

Another Tube

Wh-what?” Alex sputtered. “You knew Mr. Today? There’s a tube here?” Could this be their way home?

The little man held up his hand as the storm grew worse and a gust of wind sent Fox rolling across the ground. “Come quick,” the man said to them all. “I will show you.”

Alex exchanged looks with Florence and his friends, and they all nodded. The man seemed harmless and trustworthy.

The man trekked to a cluster of rocks not far inland, and held his hand out, presenting it. “Magic tube,” he said proudly.

Alex and Samheed ran to look inside the rock formation. There, indeed, were the remains of a tube, tilting slightly as if years of wind had begun to push it over. Its glass was opaque with salty grime from the sea. Moss grew on the floor of it, and a puddle of water collected in the lowest area. The panel was cracked and there were several holes in it where the directional buttons should be.

Alex’s heart sank. It was completely useless. “Very nice,” he said to the man. “Thank you for showing us.” He looked back at the others and gave a quick shake of the head. “Sorry, everybody. Not functional,” he said. “I wouldn’t have the first clue about how to fix it.” He squinted at it. “I’ll certainly give it a try, though.”

A blast of lightning split the sky and a howling wind sent Fox tumbling several yards. Henry ran to pick him up, and Kitten too, though being so small and low to the ground had kept her from sailing anywhere thus far.

The man beckoned the Artiméans to follow him. “Hour of calm is over,” he said, and his words were starting to come out more smoothly the more he spoke. “We must shelter from the hurricane.” With that he shielded his eyes and squinted toward the shore, looking longingly at the toolbox, and shook his head. “My box,” he muttered. He turned and moved quickly toward the center of the island, where the largest rock formations stood. The Artiméans exchanged glances once more. Faced with a choice between the worsening storm and the unknown, they chose the unknown and went after him.

When they reached the tallest rocks, everyone but Florence followed the man through a small, sheltered doorway into a large open room.

“I’ll stay out here,” Florence called out.

Alex came running back to the doorway, realizing Florence was too big to fit through it. He looked at her, concerned. “Are you sure?”

“The weather doesn’t bother me. If anything strange happens, yell, and I’ll rip these rocks out of my way so fast and be at your side in no time. But there’s no use destroying the poor man’s place unless it’s necessary.” She gave Alex a reassuring smile. “Besides, I can see and hear what’s going on inside that main room from here.”